


Flickering Lights

by wiltedlettuce



Category: Game of Thrones (TV), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon Divergence, Female Harry Potter, Gen, Not Beta Read, Not Epilogue Compliant, Rule 63
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-27
Updated: 2016-11-27
Packaged: 2018-09-02 12:40:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8668051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wiltedlettuce/pseuds/wiltedlettuce
Summary: Left in charge of Winterfell, Robb quickly finds that he is not as prepared for the position as he hoped, and, with their parents gone, his brothers are relying on him to be strong. Robb would like to think that he’s doing well there, even if he probably is running the keep into the ground, but that all changes when Bran comes to him with his dreams about a woman and her dying babe in the Godswood. Robb has no choice but to take them in, if only to find out their connection to his little brother.





	

Robb was awoken by a hand on his shoulder and the sound of his little brother's voice.

“Robb, wake _up_. This is important!” It was the most animated he had heard Bran since the accident, and he couldn't help the slight uptick to his lips, especially once Rickon echoed with “Up! Up!”

He cracked open one eye to see his younger brothers staring at him impatiently from far too close, Hodor behind them with a confused smile on his face. Robb faked an overdrawn yawn, reaching out to snatch his littlest brother from beside the bed into his arms. Shrieks of laughter mostly drowned out Bran's exasperated shout, and when Robb finally released his captive, he looked over to see Bran glowering with his face drawn in tight.

“You done then?” Bran asked with a surly twist on his lips. Robb sighed and sat up, Rickon seated comfortably on his lap.

“I suppose. Now what's this about something important? It had better be of the _utmost_ importance if you've woken me up so early.” If anything, the frown on Bran's face deepened at that, an uncertain look reaching his eyes. Robb could see him begin to withdraw into himself and furrowed his brow in concern. “Bran? What's the matter?”

Bran's eyes shifted as he fidgeted with his hands, “Never mind. It was nothing. Just – just me being silly, I guess. Sorry.”

Robb mentally chided himself as he tried to put on a reassuring smile, “I'm sure it's not nothing if you were so worried about it.” Bran shifted and glanced back at Hodor – for reassurance or what, Robb didn't know – before taking a deep breath,

“There's a girl – well, I mean, I had a dream about a girl and,” Bran cut himself short, huffing in frustration at Robb's barely stifled snickers, “ _Robb_ , this is _important_!”

Robb tried to force down his mirth and copy the face he had so often seen his father do when listening to his children's stories but couldn't quite get it just right like Jon could. He felt a pang at the thought of his father and brother but pushed them aside to listen to the family he had with him in the present.

“I'm sorry, little brother. I didn't mean to make fun, it's just – dreams about girls at your age are hardly unusual enough to be called important,” Robb placated with what he hoped was a kind smile on his face. Bran's skin from his neck up to the tips of his ears flushed red as he sputtered out denials,

“It wasn't that sort of dream! It was just – It wasn't – why would you – _Robb_!”

Robb smiled again, listening to Rickon's quiet giggles against his chest and felt the warmth of contentment spread through him. It was good to see them both so happy and bright since the departure of the rest of the family. He suffered through another one of Bran's dramatic huffs, patiently waiting for him to finish his tale with a raised brow.

Bran shot him one last dirty look before starting over, “I had a dream about a girl – and not of the sordid kind!” he rushed to add when it looked like his audience would begin again with the laughter, “She was sleeping in the hollowed-out tree in the Godswood – you know, the one on the way to the springs?”

At Robb's nod, he finished, “She was holding a – a baby, I think, but it was, well, it was _wrong_.” Bran had a strange look to his face after he finished his tale, and he curled into himself even more, prompting Robb to shift both himself and Rickon closer to the side of the bed so he could lay a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“It was just a dream, Bran,” he murmured, “But if it truly bothers you, we can go to Godswood to look.” At the grateful look, Robb knew he had made the right decision.

And true to his promise, immediately after he dressed, the small procession of him, with Rickon's tiny hand clasped in his, and Hodor carrying Bran made their way to the one tree in all the Godswood that was hollowed out enough to fit a grown person. They chatted about anything and nothing on the way there, the weight of his newly acquired title sliding off his shoulders in favor for the much lighter mantle of big brother.

Despite that, he was already thinking of what he had to do the rest of the day after this small trip. There were letters to read, documents to sign, and work that needed to be done despite his brother's fears. Robb was certain that they were unfounded, but he didn't mind taking some time to reassure him of such.

Of course, because fate was hardly ever kind to the Starks, once they reached the tree, Bran's sharp intake of breath drew his attention from Rickon's smile to the human body curled up in the hollow, with what looked like a baby cradled in their arms.

Robb felt his heart stutter in shock before he guided Rickon to cling to the hem of Hodor's tunic with a sharp order of keeping his brothers away from the tree to the stable boy. Once he was sure the boys were secure where they would be in no harm of being attacked or possibly seeing something horrible, Robb crept closer with a dirk in hand.

The girl – woman really, she was surely old enough to have flowered, if not already be wed – was curled around a babe swaddled in a mottled cloth. They were both breathing, the babe's breath more a wet wheeze, and clearly both alive, though filthy with dirt, blood, and gods only knew what else.

Robb weighed his options before turning to Hodor, “Go back to the Great Keep, all three of you, and send for Theon and a couple of stable boys. Make sure they bring a plank, just in case.”

Despite Bran's protests and Rickon's accompanying whines, Hodor turned to do just that, leaving Robb alone with the strange woman and her dying child.

He kept watch from a fair distance away, wary at being caught mostly unarmed near a possible threat. He didn’t dare to touch her or the babe for fear of them awakening. Once Theon and two boys from the Keep carrying a plank between them found the trio, Robb reached a cautious hand out to shake the woman’s shoulder, gently to not disturb the child. When there was no response, the gestured for the boys to lay her out on the plank after he eased her burden from her arms.

The babe truly was a horrid looking thing, with sallow grey skin and thin white hair, and he could understand easily when Bran had said that it was somehow wrong. Robb made a face of discomfort towards Theon, who leaned over to get a better look. He whistled lowly, a look of pity on his face.

“Poor bitch must have been horrified when that ripped its way out of her,” he commented meanly, and Robb couldn’t even bring himself to disagree. They made their way back to the Great Keep and found Bran and Hodor waiting for them.

“I sent Rickon to his nurse, and Maester Luwin is ready for our guest in his tower,” Bran said, that strange light from earlier that morning back in his eye as he took in the appearance of the girl. Robb nodded and motioned for the servants to go ahead. Bran patted Hodor to get him to follow, but Robb stopped them with a raised hand.

“Bran,” Robb began gravely, “We need to talk.”

His brother frowned but agreed, and Robb told him to go wait in the lord’s solar while he went to talk to the maester. On the way, the babe began to cry softly, an agonized, heartbroken sound that set Robb’s teeth on edge. Theon shied away when Robb tried to pass him the crying bundle, an oddly fearful look on his face, so Robb held the babe tighter to his chest and hurried his steps, eager to get the disconcerting creature out of his hands.

Maester Luwin was bent over the prone body of the woman when they walked in, making contemplating hums under his breath as examined her. At Robb’s awkward cough, he turned towards the two in the doorway.

“My lord,” he greeted with a shallow bow of his head, “the girl doesn’t seem to be injured despite the blood. Perhaps a head wound is what keeps her asleep.”

Robb nodded, a thoughtful look on his face. He tilted the babe in his arms in a gesture for the maester to take it, the child’s cries having stopped the closer they got to the tower, much to his and Theon’s gratitude. The face the maester made when he saw the child was nearly similar to the one Theon had made, and the man took the child with an obvious reluctance. 

They watched as Luwin placed the babe next to its mother on the pallet and unwrapped the filthy blanket. The body of the child was as disconcerting to see as its face, all grey and wrinkled with fading scars along its torso. Robb could feel Theon recoil from besides him and wished that he could do the same.

Maester Luwin made a soft tutting noise as when the babe curled towards its mother, reaching a deformed hand for her breast.

“Besides it’s unfortunate appearance, there doesn’t appear to be anything wrong with the child,” he muttered, “Though I highly doubt that this girl is the child’s mother.”

“Lucky her,” Theon whispered. Robb’s lips twitched in attempt to stifle a smirk. The maester shot them a warning glance before going back to his patients. They both looked away when Luwin began to remove her clothing, Theon meeting Robb’s eye with a smirk and a quirked brow. Robb felt his face heat up and cleared his throat, 

“Well, I suppose we’ll be leaving you to your work, Maester Luwin. Send word if there’s any developments.”

A distracted hum was his only answer before Robb grabbed his friend by the shoulder and dragged him out of the room behind him. On their way down the stairs, Theon nudged him in the shoulder, and Robb managed to crack a small smile before going back to frowning. Bran was supposed to be waiting in their father’s solar for their talk, and there was a strange woman and an even stranger baby in his castle. He wasn’t supposed to have to deal with this. Not yet, not for a couple years. 

His father should be here, with his mother by his side. He would know what to do. He would be able to talk to Bran about his dream and what it coming true meant without making a mess of it like Robb knew he was bound to do. He would know what to do with the interlopers rather than turning tail and leaving it to Maester Luwin. Robb didn’t have a clue about anything that was happening in Winterfell now except that Rickon was probably napping in the nursery. 

He took a deep breath and straightened his spine. It didn’t matter how much he didn’t want to do any of this. His father wasn’t here, and he was the Stark in Winterfell. He would do his duty to his house and pray that everything turned out for the best.

He parted ways with Theon at the base of the stairway with a friendly clap on the back before making his way further into the Great Keep. It wasn’t long before he reached the lord’s solar, and it was still so strange for him to enter without having to knock. Bran and Hodor were there waiting, and he greeted them both before dismissing the stable boy. This would be a conversation for Stark ears only.

Bran was eyeing him wearily, placed tensely in a padded seat. Robb tried to smile reassuringly, but he knew that it probably looked more like a grimace. He sat down in the chair next to his brother, avoiding the desk as much as possible, and tried to look for the right words to say. Just as he had figured out how to ask his question without seeming accusing, Bran spoke in a rush or words.

“Please don’t have me burned!”

That shocked a laugh out of Robb, and he moved his chair over so he could lay an arm around his brother’s shoulders.

“Why would you even think that I would do that?” Robb asked with a grin on his face, “I would never allow any more harm to come to you, not even from myself.”

He felt the tension ease out of Bran’s body as he leaned heavily into Robb’s side. He pressed a quick kiss to the crown of his head before leaning away so he could look him in the eye,

“But we still have to talk about it. How did you know they were in the woods, Bran? And I want the truth.”

Bran rustled in indignation, “But I told you the truth! They were in my dream, I swear!”

Robb slouched in exhaustion, “That’s what I was afraid of.” At Bran’s questioning gaze, he explained,  
“You can’t let anyone know that you dreamt of them, Bran. They would declare it witchcraft and demand you dead.”

Bran looked terrified at that and said in a quiet voice, “But you said that you wouldn’t let anyone hurt me.”

“And I won’t,” Robb replied fiercely, “You are Brandon of House Stark, and you are my brother – they would have to cut me down before they could reach you.”

“Promise?” Bran asked, and Robb could just feel his heart clench. His baby brother sounded so small, and he wasn’t even looking up at him like he thought Robb would lie to him about this.

“I promise,” he swore gravely, lifting Bran’s head with a slight touch to his chin and making him look into his eyes, “I’ll protect you until my last breath.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternatively titled: Robb Is Trying His Best


End file.
